Tricks of the Trade

She had seen the look in his eye.  The look that many younger warriors had when graced with the presence of an older beast with more battles in their past. He wished to pit himself against her. See if his skills and battle prowess were a match for her own. Resin hadn't made him wait for long. 

The ash and onyx woman was no longer the warrior that she had once been. Time and a plethora of injuries had seen to that.  These days her bones ached at the end of her patrols. There was a tightness in her chest that her daughter said may never go away. The result of an injury sustained while putting Iolaire's father to death. The price of his death was well worth it and so the giantess never mourned her loss of flexibility.

After days of getting settled in and falling into the routine of patrolling the borders of the territory, Resin felt the need for some more strenuous stimulus. No doubt the warlord too could use a bit of a break. Besides,  she hadn't been able to test just what kind of creature her daughter had tied herself to. 

The hulking she-wolf moved out onto a fairly flat section of the plains. This would do well for the activity that she had in mind.  Tossing her burly body into the long grass,  the woman rolled much like a pup, her large form tamping down the grass as she did so.  The area would by no means be perfect,  but the trampled grass would at least allow them some level footing. 

Satisfied with her work,  the large fae rose,  shaking out her thick obsidian mane when she was standing.  Muzzle tilted towards the sky and she sent out one long,  low call.  An invitation to Sirius, Warlord of the Ashen Armada, to come and test her mettle. She would surely test his.